Ginny Weasley's Guide To A Dysfunctional Life
by notsoginger
Summary: It's very difficult being fifteen. Very difficult indeed. Especially if you're a girl, a witch, and have two nearly certifiably insane best friends. Just ask Ginny Weasley, she'll tell you.
1. Chapter One

**I need to disclaim. Consider my story disclaimed.**

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Stupid Jessi. She insists that journaling helps her control her emotions or such rubbish. I think it's just stupid.

I am the one and probably only Ginny Weasley. Well, actually, my name is Ginevra, but if you call me that I will Bat Boogey you. My silly parents chose my name. In a fruitless effort to get people to call me something somewhat normal, I told my friends that they had my permission to call me Ginny, and only Ginny. This failed and I have since been dubbed "Ginger". Basically, this name derived from no sleep, popcorn, and way too many butterbeers. It's actually quite a horribly boring story, but you know you're curious.

Well, my friends and I were sitting in the common room after one of the Quidditch match parties, and we were all very hyper. My friend Jessi looked at me and just started laughing. She then proceeded to inform me that I have red hair. I simply looked blankly at her and stated quite obviously, "Duh, I am a Weasley."

She just laughed and laughed until finally she said, "Hey, Ginger, pass me the popcorn." She thought she was so clever because my name is "Ginny" and "Ginger" has "Gin" in it, too. Well done, Jessi. Sadly, she never let it go, and she still sometimes calls me Ginger. Eh, it is rather irksome. But still I love her for it. I can't really help it. I've known her forever.

My best friends are Eliza and Jessi. They are the coolest people you will ever meet. Well, in truth, you probably won't meet them, but you will hear of them. A LOT! One I have known my entire life -Jessi- and the other -Eliza- I met ages ago. _Al__l right,_ not that long, maybe five years, but still! Eliza is from America, you see, and she moved here to go to Hogwarts because that's where her parents went. They had moved to America to get away from the war, back when they first got married. And Jessi, well, she is just amazing. Our mums met while shopping in Diagon Alley when we were babies and decided that we should play together. I am glad Mum ran out of potatoes that day.

Anywho, they love me for who I am and don't see me as the red-headed freak everyone thinks I am. Well they are right about the red headed-ness, and I must say I agree with the freak-ness. I am kind of strange looking. Hmm, how to describe myself?

Let's make a list! Yay for lists!

Ginny Weasley

**Eyes:** Brown. Like mud. And chocolate! Yum.

**Hair: **RED. AHHH. CAN'T ESCAPE THE WEASLEY HAIR.

**Body** **Type:** Well I'm not fat, not skinny. I'm curvy. There I made that sound pretty!

**Height:** My height is average. Like the rest of me.

**Skin:** Pale and freckled.

**Age: **15. Year five at Hogwarts.

I'm really sort of a Plain Jane. Nothing special. People don't run in fright when they see me, their babies do not cry, but no one would bother to give me a second glance.

Yeah. You know, I really don't find this as satisfying as Jessi seems to think this is. Maybe I'll write again. I doubt it. I have better things to do then write in a stupid book.

_**Author's Note: **_Okay, so I am aware that this story is really strange and not very similar to the books. See, I originally was writing this story as the story of my own life for fun but then I really wanted to write a Ginny story so I changed the names around. So the first few chapters are things that are happening/happened in my life around the time of eighth grade. When I first wrote this. Yeah, except the magic stuff. So forgive me if it is not very canon-esque. Anyway, please review, and I will give you a cyber-cookie in your preference of flavor. Also, if you leave me a review, and you have a story, I promise I will read your story and review it. So, goodbye for now!


	2. Chapter Two

Okay,_ fine_. I lied. I don't have better things to do then write in a stupid book.

Now I know it's odd to start off with a story about the insane fool that I am, but I need to share this or I will literally explode. Like seriously. Not even implode, but EXPLODE! I swear! Fine, don't believe me.

Anyway, onward with the story.

My mother calls me down to dinner, right? And I go sit at the table just like a normal person would do. So then Mum proceeds to say, "I made soup." This seems like a perfectly normal thing to say. But no! I have to go and freak out about said soup. I was all, "Why do you have to make gross food?"

And that led to me screaming at her about how she doesn't love me because I was her last child and a mistake and God knows what, and I swear I am insane sometimes. And then, yes it gets better, my stupid prat of a brother, sometimes known as Ron, comes over and says,

"Have you two stopped your bloody fighting yet? I'm hungry. Blimey."

And then of course my evil twin, because of course I wouldn't go insane like this, just had to start yelling at Ron about how all he cares about is his stomach. For half an hour.

Well it all ended with me crying my eyes out on the couch and refusing to eat dinner. So here I sit with no eyes and an empty stomach.

What in Merlin's yellow checkered pants is wrong with me? Seriously.

I think it's that time of month again. For all you girls out there, you know what I'm talking about. You know? The time that makes You-Know-Who temporarily inhabit our bodies and control our actions? The time commonly known as PMS. Psychotic Murderer's Syndrome, of course.

I hate being a girl.

You know, actually I don't. It probably beats being a bloke.

Oh, dear! I think I just heard a crashing noise coming from the twins' room. Oh well, they probably just exploded something again.

You know what? I think I'll take a nap. Maybe when I wake up, I will be sane again. Probably not, but it's worth a shot.

Huh. All that nap accomplished was the spilling of ink all over my sheets, and words imprinted on my forehead. Because I just had to fall asleep _on_ the diary.

Well anyways, it's a few hours after my angry outburst at my family. I'm in my amazingly comfortable haven of pillows, also known as my bed, eating my weight in Honeydukes Chocolate, drinking tea so sweet it shall put me into a sugar coma, and watching Ron and Harry try to throw the gnomes out of the yard. Life is beautiful.

Jessi's right. This diary thing is working out pretty well. I feel** much** better now.

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Author's Note: I'm rather enjoying myself writing this story. I have no idea if it is good or not but it's fun to write. Review and I will smile. Even if it is bad things you are saying. Then I won't smile. But I will appreciate your honesty. Now, chop, chop get to it!


	3. Chapter 3

Hey, hey, guess what? I don't suppose you're going to answer me. Ah, well. Bloody book.

Well anyway, I'M GOING TO NEW YORK TOMORROW BECAUSE ELIZA INVITED ME AND JESSI TO GO WITH HER! But you know, I am not excited at all. I go to America all the time. Except that's a lie. I am so excited; I have never even left England. Except maybe to go to Hogwarts, but, honestly, no one really knows where that is. Anyway, Eliza is going back to America to visit some of her old friends for Christmas, and she invited us to go with her. Ah, it's so exciting!

And she said we will go to this giant square where they time things and see big moving pictures on buildings. I have really no idea what she is talking about but it seems relatively interesting. Apparently the Muggles in America have large photographs displaying advertisements on their homes. It seems rather odd to me.

And apparently there is some famous ice skating rink there too. I love ice skating. When I was younger, Bill used to take me out onto the lake and teach me. Mum would have had a cow if she knew. Imagine, her son bringing his baby sister onto that freezing, slippery death trap. It was bloody brilliant.

Well now I should go and clean my ridiculously messy room. Maybe then Jessi could make her way across it without too much damage to herself.

Cleaning my room is very boring. I think I'll pass. When I try to undertake the task of cleaning my room, I basically do everything but effectively clean my room.

Which is why I am now doing laundry. Well, not right now. Right now I am writing.

Now there is something you must understand before you think, "Why is that a big deal?", and it's that I have a lot of clothing. Six brothers worth of clothing. The glory of hand-me-downs. In fact I can go for about six weeks without doing laundry. Not even kidding. And it's not like I'm wearing dirty clothing either. So I haven't done laundry in about four weeks, and I have a lot to do. This will take forever.

Jessi's here! I can tell because she is talking rather loudly, as is usual for her, to the twins. She has always been ridiculously interested in the twins. She is constantly telling me that they are going to one day take over the world, so she must suck up now. I think she talks to them because she secretly has a thing for Fred. She constantly just slips him into conversation. She will never admit it though. But I know. I always know.

Time for another one of our famous all-nighters! Guess I don't have to do laundry! Escape!

Oh, here she comes.

Jessi: Hi!

Me: Hey, you! What's new?

Jessi: Guess what?

Me: No, I don't want to.

She pouts at me.

Jessi: It's really exciting!

Me: All right, fine. What?

Jessi: I asked him out.

Me: Michael?

Jessi: Of course Michael! Who else, Fred? As if. Honestly, Ginger.

Me: Don't call me Ginger. And well, did he say yes?

Jessi: How could he not? No bloke in his right mind can resist my girlish charms.

Me: Right. So yes, then?

Jessi: Yes!

She gloats. We had a bet. She said they would be going out before the end of the summer. I said he was much too shy to ask her out, but I didn't think about her. Stupid cow. She cheated.

Jessi: So what about you? Lover Boy still there?

Me: Yes. He won't go away.

I pout.

Jessi laughs at me.

Me: Hey, don't laugh at me! You know at first it was kind of cute, having an admirer, but now the idea of having a personal stalker isn't quite so jolly.

Colin is rather enamored of me. You know, talks to me all the time, calls me all the time. Takes pictures of me all the time. That's the behavior that kinda worries me sometimes, the rest is all right. Everyone can tell he likes me, and he knows it. The thing is I guess I kind of got his hopes up at the beginning. I mean it's not extreme, but I do come off as kinda flirtatious on occasion, and I guess he thought that meant I liked him. Which I don't by the way. Never have, never will. I like somebody else. But don't tell Jessi. She would have a field day. I have become very good at appearing utterly asexual.

Anyway, back to the conversation.

Jessi: But it's so sweet!

Me: Stop trying to get us to go out. You don't understand how creepy he gets! And I don't like him!

Jessi: I know, but at some point you might. I will just keep my hopes up, that someday-

Me: Just because you know have a boyfriend it doesn't mean I'm desperate for one.

Jessi: Yeah, but that can't be fun. Boyfriends are such a good time. Ginny, you should really try them out.

Me: You make them sound like a new broom, Jess. And not everyone needs a different boy every month. Anyway, you seem excited! Your love life is amusing.

Jessi: Glad to be of amusement. I'm so excited! Woah, we are going to the Big Apple tomorrow.

Me: Yes, and maybe on our way you can meet the Big Pear that will convince you never to say the Big Apple again, but to say New York like us civilized folk.

Jessi: Oh. So is the Big Pear in America too?

Me: Of course it is. You need a geography lesson!

Jessi: Nice.

I'll stop writing now because I have big day tomorrow, in which I will be seeing several largely proportioned fruits.

**Author's Note: **Once upon a time, there was a beautiful young writer who was desperate for some reviews. She liked the reviews because they made her feel warm and fuzzy inside. And who doesn't like that?


	4. Chapter 4

The sun is evil! Waking me up at this hour. This ungodly hour! Oh, wait. It's 11:45. How did that happen? Eliza was supposed to be here an hour ago. We need to floo over to her grandmother's house. Where is she? And then my unasked question was answered by a voice. And no, it was not in my head.

"Hi!"

There sitting on my couch was the third part of the troublesome trio, reading _Quidditch Through The Ages._ If there is one thing we all enjoy, apart from debating useless things and immersing ourselves in mocking banter, it is Quidditch. Ron is so wrong about the Chudley Cannons. Like they could ever win. Holyheads all the way!

We also enjoy randomly having hot chocolate at interesting times, like at nine in the morning in the middle of summer, going shopping in Diagon Alley, music, albeit different kinds, and making random projects. We once decided to papier machè (I need Fleur here to help me with my French or something) my wall with newspapers and then cover it with everything from pictures to shoes, from sparkles to t-shirts, and from plastic guitars to bottles of nail polish. My mum had a fit when she saw it. And then there all those scrapbooks of the years of our friendship. We looked so young back in our first year. There are all these pictures of me, Liza, Jess, and Shena waving at the camera. Shena found new friends because decided she was too cool to hang out with us. She wasn't, by the way.

Soon I will be in New York! I'm excited! Can you tell!

We are waiting for the floo network to work again in my living room. It should be up and about in no time, the Ministry says there is just a small problem.

Liza and Jessi are talking about the beetles or something. Apparently they are some sort of musical group composed of insects. Jessi doesn't think they are amazing and Eliza begs to differ or something like that. _I _have no idea what they are talking about. But I'm going to New York! And I'm going to ice-skate! And buy stuff! It's totally crazy! Happy dance!

I haven't been skating in forever! It's been like a year! And I used to be pretty good! You know, I didn't fall or anything.

All right, five hours later, I'm just tad less excited. Stupid floo network and its annoying blockages. Seven games of Exploding Snap, five chess games with Ron, which I lost every time, and three kareoke reditions of _A Cauldron Full Of Hot Strong Love _later, we are finally here.

I'm now sitting in Eliza's grandma's house having her tell me that I am not allowed to eat stew for lunch, because, _apparently,_ it's a dinner food. So here is Eliza's 86-year-old grandmother getting all mad at Eliza's mother for allowing Liza to befriend people who eat stew, and how kids just aren't the same these days. Don't ask, that's just Nana for you. We all call her Nana. I don't think she _has_ a real name.

Oh! Now she is mad cause she caught sight of my ears in all their pierced glory. Oh, God! Why can't she just accept that this isn't 1945? I mean, the last time she visited Liza in England, she thought I was wearing mascara, which for the record I wasn't, and she got all mad. Then she asked me to wet a piece of paper towel and hand it to her. I did. She took it and started rubbing my eye with it. It was so odd! But after the fact, it was one of the funniest things ever.

We are going ice-skating. I'm so hyper. I love ice, the jolly, swoopy feeling. And I just discovered on of my favorite Muggle inventions. The subway. It is endlessly entertaining. And it is the best thing ever when you're me, Liza, and Jessi. Merlin, it's crazy. It's just like, moving on its own. With no magic! We just finished swigging around on the pole things and singing. That old woman in the corner is judging us, I can tell. But I don't care because it is just so fun!

We're at the stop! We only have five blocks to walk now and then it's ice time, baby! I'm going to pretend that I don't know that their will be insanely long lines. Merlin, I'm excited.

_**Author's Note:**_ Dear Readers,

Please Review.

Love, Gingerbob.

P.S. I'll give you a cookie.


	5. Chapter 5

Ouch.

Hurt.

Arm.

Eh.

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Author's Note: Sorry 'bout the short one, folks. Couldn't help myself. : )


	6. Chapter 6

Fine, I'll use complete sentences if _that'_s what you want . So you, as you are aware by my incessant, excited babble, we were going ice-skating. And all was well and jolly, and we were having a right hoot and half. But no, I have to go and break my arm. Of course. Damn ice.

Here is the tragic story of my arm snapping:

So, I was skating along, minding my own business, when this abnormally tall and wide man bumps into me and knocks me over. I fall, right, and instead of breaking my head, I decide to throw my arm out in front of me. But there was a rather loud crunch after I did this, and a sharp pain going through my poor limb. Oh and of course, some stupid little kid decided that it would be fun to skate over the girl whose arm just made the freaky crunching noise. Damn kids.

So Liza and Jessi rush over and are very concerned for the midget because he fell. Like he matters. He just ran over me! And I'm just screaming bloody murder for someone to get me to St. Mungo's. Finally, they notice me and drag me over to a bench. And soon enough Liza's mum comes rushing over all in a dither. She's very concerned because the Muggles are watching and she can't apparate me away or fix my arm. So I have to wait there and deal with this the Muggle way. Apparently this was when someone called an "ambulance", but I didn't see how one of those would help. So then when it did arrive, all we had was this crazy man who just kept talking about Idaho potatoes. I don't even know what Idaho is, but he is very fond of it. Weird bloke.

Liza and Jess both though he was hilarious, but I just thought he was annoying. Maybe it was because my arm was all throbbing insanely, but I don't know. The "ambulance" guys didn't even know anything. I found out later that the sling they put on my was inside out and backwards. And these guys are professionals? How do the Muggles live?

Anyways, I'm sitting in Nana's house, and she is having a freak out. You know, worrying about me, and asking me if I need anything every two seconds. I think I should ask for some stew.

Alas, earwax. But I can't do anything fun for a bit. These debilitating potions are nasty.

I have to go back to Hogwarts in four days! It's so saddening!

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Author's Note: I don't have any idea where I am going with this. Alas. I will try to think of something. Help? :)


	7. Chapter 7

So today we did what we actually came to America for. We ventured forth and found Eliza's old friends. They were sufficiently amusing. In a disturbing way. They had plenty of ridiculous stories to tell about their evil headmistress and about the evil powers she doth possess.

We tried to tell them all about Hogwarts, and about how even though it is hard and boring sometimes, when a teacher isn't being possessed by the most cruel wizard of all time, or when a giant snake isn't attacking people, or when a mass murderer isn't on the loose, that is, it is actually** amazing**. They just _couldn't_ understand the concept that school could be _fun_, but Hogwarts can be plenty fun!

Like that time in History of Magic, when all of the people in my Arithmancy took off their shoes, crept slowly and secretly down the hallway, barged into our class and threw their shoes at us. We were talking about goblin rebellions and whatnot, so it was a lovely interuption. It turned into a school-wide shoe fight. For all except those imprisoned in Snape's death chamber. The Evil Git made them all stand behind him while he tried to give all of Hogwarts, except the Slytherins, of course, detention. Dumbledore merely smiled and threw his own shoes at Snape while telling him to "lighten up, Severus". It was the best thing I have ever seen, ever. Including that time Fred and George turned Ron's teddy-bear into a spider. And that is saying _a lot_.

But since they have never met neither Snape nor Dumbledor, they just couldn't understand the true _hilarity_ of that moment.

All they really wanted to talk about was Harry Potter, since they all had insane school-girl crushes on him. This craze had developed after they read about him in American Witch Weekly. But it was all too much for us when they mentioned the "beautiful Boy-Who-Lived, with the amazing green eyes that could light up the sky on a cloudy day". Jessi, Eliza, and I just looked at each other and proceeded to burst out laughing. We managed to explain that we knew him at school because my brother is his best friend, before they could tear us limb from limb for mocking the BBBWL (Beautifully-Bodilicous-Boy-Who-Lived) . They stared and gasped and hooted in awe when we announced this (I told you they were silly!), and immediately asked us if we could get his autograph, or steal his toothbrush or something else odd like that. At this point, Liza turned to me and whispered in my ear, "They sound exactly like you did when you were eleven," to which I responded by _accidentally_ stamping on her feet. Very hard.

When I revealed that he had spent the better part of the summer at my house, they almost fainted with jealousy. Over-Excited-Fan-Girl-Number-One even started to cry. Talk about needing to get a life. They spent the next thirty-minutes asking me really creepy questions regarding his personal life. They demanded to know if the rumors were true: does Harry Potter a Hippogriff tattooed across his chest?

I replied, "No, it's a Hungarian Horntail, much more macho."

At this shocking news, they all swooned.

"Those girls were pretty wacked, weren't they?" I asked, slumping farther into my chair. It was much later that day, and we were all sitting around drinking hot chocolate that Nana had made us.

"Yeah. Totally. I can't believe you were friends with them. They were insane." Jessi made a face at Eliza. I didn't feel as though this was the right moment to point out to Jessi that she had done something similar when she had first met Harry. Most young witches do.

"Well, they were normal in Kindergarten. I can't believe they would get so weird about a boy. It's_ Harry_ for Merlin's sake. No offense, Ginny." Liza looked at me apologetically.

"None taken. Wait, wait. Why would I be offended?" I asked suspiciously, narrowing my eyes at Liza in what I hoped was a threatening manner. She merely turned to Jessi, and they shared an exasperated look.

"You know, you look exactly like your mum when you do that. It's freaky." Jess pointed out helpfully. I glared at her, too. Eliza sighed.

"Gin, really, you can't deny your _obvious_ attraction to the fellow. You turn bright re-" She was very rudely cut off by my scream.

"AH, STOP! I DO NOT LIKE HARRY POTTER! At all. Not in the least!" I stamped my foot really hard on the ground for effect. "And that is final." Eliza looked down and her shoes, shaking in what I assumed was fear of my withering glare. There. I won. At least for tonight. I stood there, all gloat-y, until Jessi decided to speak. Unfortunately.

"Here we are ladies and gentlemen, Cleopatra, Queen of Denial." She smirked at me. _Smirked_. Like she was _Malfoy _or something. It wasn't even a remotely funny joke.

Liza finally looked up, and I could tell by her face that her shaking was not in fear of my extensive power, but an attempt to hide her laughter. I rounded on her, pointing my finger, I opened my mouth to speak—and Eliza could no longer hold it in. I guess my anger was _just too funny_. She rolled off her chair, tears off mirth streaming down her cheeks, gasping for breath.

"...Mrs. Weasley...you!...TWINS!"

The room had turned into crazy-land. I was standing there with my ears as red as my hair, brandishing my fist, while Jessi ran in circles around me, singing "You're in denial, you're in denial" over and over again, and Liza was on the floor laughing copiously about my resemblance to my mother.

"Does anyone want marshmallows?"

Oh. Hi, Nana.

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Author's Little Commentary: That last bit was a real experience. Summer Camp. Such good times.

P.S. I have been using real life experiences to write this story so far, you know, except the bits about Harry and magic, and I have to admit, I am running out of ideas. So I am offering anyone who reviews the opportunity to come up with an event that they wish for me to write about. I swear, unless it is inappropriate or does not work with the general idea I have for the story, I will write it! :)


	8. Chapter 8

Here we are at Hogwarts. It feels weird to be back. The holiday was so exciting that Hogwarts just seems so calm. It's weird that nothing has happened yet this year. I mean, compared to last year with the Evil Hag- Umbridge the Toad, of course - this year just dulls in comparison.

Of course, I have been amusing myself with purposefully flirting with Dean Thomas whenever I can see Ron looking my way. Ever since I mentioned my potential interest in the fellow last year, Ron has been amusingly awkward around him. I mean, I only said it to get a rise out of Ron. Well, he _was_ prying into my personal life. Dean is just so bewildered that I feel kind of bad. Maybe I should fill him in on the situation. But the results of the situation are just too funny too pass up.

Yesterday in the Gryffindor common room:

I notice Ron looking over to where Dean, Jessi, and I are sitting on the couch.

Me: Dean, those trousers look absolutely scrumptious on you.

Dean: Uh, thanks?

Me: You're welcome. So, do you happen to keep a mirror in your pants or something?

Dean: What? No. Why?

Me: Because I can see myself in them.

Dean: Uh. Well.

Me: Oh, hullo, Ron. Are you feeling all right? You look a bit odd.

Meanwhile, Jessi, who knows of my evil plan, is trying to avoid choking on her Sugar Quill because she is laughing so much. Ron, who is oblivious to the true nature of the situation, had turned bright red and was trying to look anywhere but at me. And Dean, poor old Dean, is so confused by my sporadic bursts of attention.

Eliza thinks the whole plot is ridiculous, and that it is cruel to lead Dean on in this manner. We were sitting in the dormitories last night talking about it.

"Ginger, I think you should just tell Ron you aren't interested in Dean so he stops turning bright red whenever he sees him. The other day, Dean tried to ask Ron what the Herbology homework was, and Ron became so flustered he could barely manage a complete sentence, all he kept saying was 'bubotuber puss...properties...potions...' It was painful to watch."

She turned to look seriously at me.

"You are turning Ron into a blubbering idiot."

I didn't think it was really the time to tell her that Ron was _always_ a blubbering idiot.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right." I mean, she was right. It _was _mean to lead Dean on.

Then she looked at me and smiled, quite evilly might I add.

"Maybe you should just tell Ron who you _really_ like. Maybe then he could have a real reason to flip out."

I looked at her blankly. "I don't get it."

"Look, Gin, we all know you like him. I think you should really just accept it."

"Oh, no. Not this rubbish again." I was so tired of my stupid friends' evil plans to get me to admit my undying love for Harry Potter.

"Just you wait, we will get you to admit it one day. Just you wait."

I did not like the scheming gleam in her eyes. In fact, it rather concerned me.

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Author's Note: So, I am having some intense bouts of writer's block. Which is rather saddening. So I was thinking it would be grand to get some ideas from people! Yay! I would enjoy that immensely. : )


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